MagiStream

What, again? For once, it's nothing to do with vampires! Anyway, don't post here if you're not me or Elva. You have been warned.

So, here's the form:

Name:
Age:
Species:
Appearance:
Personality:
Other:

Ta da~!

No vampires? Must be the apocalypse or something. *readies bomb shelter*

Name: Ernest Quinn. None too surprisingly, he tells people to call him by his surname.
Age: Eighteen
Species: Human
Appearance: Quinn is ever taller than average for his age, but it took him a very recent growth spurt to get there, and he hasn’t quite grown into the height, making him seem gangly and awkward. He has a skinny build and pale skin. He has an oval shaped face and bright green almond shaped eyes that are a little too big by comparison (as are his ears, but they’re always hidden by his hair). His nose is crooked from having it broken twice when he was younger, and moderately full lips. He has freckles too, across the top of his cheeks, and he wears thick-framed, squarish black glasses that he can’t really see without.
Quinn’s hair is dark auburn, dark enough to look almost mahogany brown until the sunlight shines on it and illuminates all of its red glory. He secretly straightens it religiously every morning before school, and it falls to just past his chin in length with choppy layers that are only slightly visible. He has a side fringe that covers his forehead and part of his left eye, too.
Quinn likes dark clothes and boots, and piercings. He got his earlobes pierced when he was fourteen, and ended up being grounded for two months (he got to keep the piercings). So now he’s making sure to hide the fact he’s steadily gaining expander sizes and rings in the cartilage of his left ear, and he’s definitely making sure to hide the black cross tattooed on his left shoulder.
Personality: Quinn is quiet by nature, since the people who kept their heads down at his comprehensive school were always the one to be teased less. He’s a complete bookworm at heart, and would choose a book over a laptop any day of the week. He has a slightly morbid attitude to life, due to funeral care having been the family business for generations now, and often scares people away by blurting random facts about death. He’s actually quite sweet past the awkward, strange, and shy exterior, but not a lot of people see that.
Other: He loves the beach, and can often be found sitting on the rocks with a book or even hunting for things in rockpools.

I hate my forms.

Naw, he looks amazing and huggable. And I already got meh bomb shelter ready.

Name: Arlan
Age: 17 or 18
Species: ‘Merfolk’. That’s the closest description.
Appearance: Arlan is a predominantly smoke-grey colour, with a white underbelly. His upper half could pass for human... If the human was going blind. He has short dark hair, and yellow, cat-like eyes that glow faintly when there is little light. Instead of ears, he has small, fish-like fins, and he has gills on his back and neck. However, he can survive out of water for a time. At first glance, he doesn’t seem to have lips, or even a clearly visible mouth. However, he does, which is filled with sharp teeth – the top set is structured like a shark’s, curving back slightly as an anchor, and the bottom set are made of much sharper, smaller teeth which act like saw blades, allowing him to cut off chunks of fish and swallow them whole. About half-way down his back, there is a short dorsal fin, which has a chunk taken out from it as if something bit him a long time ago.
Arlan has proportionately long arms, ending in webbed hands and sharp nails, and a long, thin body. He has no legs – rather, his body tapers off into what looks like a large dolphin’s tail, given his colouring, and two smaller fins just up from the two caudal fins, about where his hips would be, that act like rudders. He doesn’t have scales, but rather his skin is sleek and soft, and when he is out of the water, it is slimy to the touch. It is also scarred in various places, some from fights, and others from normal life. The chunk taken out of his dorsal fin is the largest scar, though.
From the crown of his head to the end of his fluke, he measures about six foot at the most, and much of it is tail.
Personality: At first, Arlan is rather shy, preferring to disappear under the waves if he is overwhelmed. But once he has warmed up to someone and trusts them, he is a very curious and energetic being, much like a dolphin or a seal. He sometimes ‘borrows’ unfamiliar things, like hats or scarves, merely to play with them in the water, but can be persuaded to give them back when the first novelty has worn off. If there isn't anything fun to play with, he spends time skimming along the ocean floor or leaping out of the waves, which has made people think there are dolphins nearby.
Because he’s rather young, he is still curious about humans and their ways, happy to spend time close to their odd, dry civilisation, much unlike his elders, who have grown to mistrust, and almost hate what the humans have done to their ocean homes, taking all their fish, drawing sharks and other predators towards their settlements, and polluting.
Other: Arlan belongs to a hidden race that rarely comes up to the surface, preferring deeper and/or warmer waters in the south, near the tropics. However, Arlan’s community is based rather far north, and unusually close to land. When the storm hit, Arlan had been playing round in the bay of the coastal town. Trapped in the shallow waters by the large waves, it was really only a matter of time til he was beached, just before dawn as the storm finally ended.
He normally talks in something a lot like, and has been mistaken for by humans as whale or dolphin song, clicks and other sounds, but he can speak English fairly well.

Herp derp, I'm coming down from my sugar high now. The form was fun to make, though.

*offers more Jammies*

...Are we ready to start?

That's one way into my heart, bribe me with jam-filled biscuits. .

Er, I think so. *Goes through mental checklist* Yeah. Shall I?

Isn't it a way into everyone's?

Please.

((I suppose so. And yay!))

The storm had blown away early in the morning, around six or seven as the sun began to rise. In the sheltered bay, the high waves had driven seaweed and driftwood up onto the sand, as well as a living thing.
Arlan lay in a small dip in the sand, lying flat on his front and gazing aimlessly at even more sand. His tail thumped again, only making a small splash, as the remaining water was only a few inches deep and sinking slowly. He'd been stuck for at least an hour, bowled over by a wave and sent up the beach. He'd tried, at first, to haul himself back, but with his tail out of the water and only a hinderance, it was hopeless. He simply didn't have the upper body strength he needed. So he just lay there as the tide began to turn and the sun rose, gradually feeling more and more helpless. He could breathe fine out of water, but the same couldn't be said for his internal organs.
If he didn't get back in the water soon, his kidneys, with little in the way of hip bones to support them and stop them from being put under pressure, could fail, and he'd die a slow death, stuck here on land. Arlan raised his head, looking round the beach for any other sign of life, but he was on the verge of giving up. He made a high whistling sound, and then rested his head back on the sand. His upper half was close to a human's, apart from a few aesthetical and functional differences, but it looked like he had the tail of a dolphin merged seamlessly at the point just below his abdomen. His back was a mainly smoke-grey colour, with a few lighter and darker streaks here and there, and two long slashes curved down over his shoulders and stopped just before a small dorsal fin, dead centre of his spine. His underside, where it wasn't buried in the sand, was a white colour, starting at his chin and only ending halfway down his tail. The merman let out another keening cry, although his mouth stayed shut. His sharp yellow eyes closed, his black hair that had been plastered to his head was almost dry, and fluffy.
He would die here, he knew it.

((That felt like fail.))

((Not fail. ))

Quinn yawned sleepily into his hand, heading down the street his house was in and towards the beach. It was still quite early in the morning, that hour when everyone was either at work already or preparing to get there, and he was alone on the streets. He couldn't say he minded so much. He just wanted to look around the rockpools and see if the storm the night before had washed up anything interesting, and then he'd get quickly back home. It was a weekend, so no one else in his house was even awake yet. They didn't even know he was gone, and that always gave him a strange feeling. If one of his sisters woke up early and went into his room, they'd panic and Quinn would get in trouble. He didn't exactly live in fear of that, but his youngest sister was six years old and it wouldn't be a pleasant experience if she fooled herself into believing her big brother had run away from home.
Quinn walked down the steps that led to the beach, a small smile on his face. He loved living close to the sea, and he always had. The sea was just generally something he loved, the smell of it and the beautifully alien things that made their home there. It had always been fascinating for him.
He was about to turn and head for the rockpools he so often explored when he paused, a slight frown on his face. He could see a grey shape just out of the corner of his eye, and he didn't remember any rocks on that part of the beach, nor did he think the storm could have washed it ashore.
Slowly, Quinn turned around and took a few steps forward, his green eyes widening drastically behind the lenses of his dorky glasses. At first glance, it was a dolphin. He told himself that's all it was, just a dolphin. Even though it clearly wasn't a dolphin, because it was a human above the waist.
But that was impossible...

Arlan raised his tail, thumping at the wet sand again in some feeble attempt to free himself. He raised his head, pushing himself up with his two long, skinny arms so he could look behind himself to see how far away the sea was. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be too far, he just couldn't reach it with his tail anymore. In frustration, he let out another cry as his taloned hands dug into the sand. Why had he even thought about coming into the bay? Why had he stayed and thought he would be safe from the storm? His family wouldn't know what had happened to him. Clearly, he had no idea that he was being watched by a human as he flopped back down on the sand, glowering at nothing in particular.

Quinn took a few steps closer, swallowing. That was definitely... well to be perfectly honest he didn't really know what that was. But is was clearly beached, and that wasn't good for any sort of animal or... animal-human-thing that belonged in water.
"U-uhm..." Quinn said shakily, his voice oddly high-pitched from shock and fear as he stopped a few feet away from the thing. He didn't know why he was talking to it. Maybe he thought that fact it had a humanish torso made it sentient and able to understand English. "Are you stuck?"
Maybe he was hallucinating or something.